On this sunny morning I heard a bird chirping away in a nearby tree while I was getting ready - how beautiful after a long winter of silence. I find that there is nothing more pure and clear than the bright voice of a song bird - effortless perfection. I didn't know what kind of a bird I was listening to, and it didn't really matter. Besides, words often utterly fail to describe an experience. They tend to be insufficient and cumbersome. That moment was an exquisite experience, no words needed.
deeply experiencing
digging in the dirt
After a long winter indoors it feels so good to be outside, open your arms wide in exuberance, and breathe in the fresh moist spring air in big gulps. Ahhhhhh.........Smelling the air is a thrilling experience, just like digging into the dirt and feeling the soil crumble in your hands, touching the tender spring flowers and shoots that are coming up out of the ground, seeing the fresh spring colors emerging, and listening to the gentle breeze whooshing in the trees.
What we don't usually realize is that all of these sensations occur simultaneously. What a much deeper experience to pause and take all of these impressions in together, the way they actually occur. When you are fully in that moment with nature it becomes an overwhelmingly complex, almost dizzying meditation. How does that moment feel then?
On the other hand, when we dissect a moment's experience into the different names we give it - hearing the breeze, smelling the fresh air, feeling the tender shoots, seeing the fresh colors - we experience these sensations consecutively. The separation occurs because we put the sensations into words, which inherently happen consecutively, and because we think about them. We can't simultaneously think about three different sensations that happen at the same time. Impossible. But we can experience them if we become still, get the words out of the way, and just BE. Just being makes you shift from seeing the world in consecutive flat segments, to a complex holographic whole.
playing with stuff
A vignette is a small still life of things in your home or office, a grouping of a few pretty items pulled together around a common theme.
Why order your clutter and put it on display? A vignette not only looks very decorative, it also draws your attention and makes you pause. It creates a moment of mindfulness, of stillness and enjoyment. Putting a vignette together is fun because you get to play with your stuff. A vignette brings order to the chaos of your tchotchkes, and it looks like art when artfully put together.
A vignette is definitely not a random assemblage of stuff. It takes some time and thought to put one together. It works when it's pulled together by theme. Such a theme might be color (different items of the same color), it might be shape (a cube, a sphere, a pyramid), it could be material (various things of the same material), or it could be purpose (consolidate all your bathroom vanity top clutter on a pretty tray). Several pictures with frames of the same type, or small artwork hung together in a grouping, make a nice wall vignette.
You can play with rocks, shells and other nature things; or plants, a flower, an attractive pot or two. In your kitchen colorful fruits and vegetables in beautiful bowls looks gorgeous. Unless lined up in a row, uneven numbers seem to work better for larger objects than even numbers. See your stuff in a new light and play with it!
make it special
Splurging is only splurging, and treating myself is only a treat if I don't do it all the time. Otherwise it's excess, or habit, or addiction. When you treat yourself for every little excuse, whether it's with shopping or eating sweets or something else, it's no longer special. And then it's no longer fun. You only feel special when it's really special. I believe that it's important to splurge and treat yourself every once in a while, constantly being a miser is miserable.
My daughter's special reward for a good math test used to be a sweet afternoon treat with a cup of rich hot chocolate at our wonderful French pâtisserie. But then she got to be very good at math, and we went to the pâtisserie very often, and then it wasn't special anymore. So we had to redefine those rewards. Meat used to be special, hence the traditional Sunday roast. If you have meat every day, and lots, it quickly becomes an unhealthy addiction. Going out for dinner is special. Yet, if you do it all the time it loses it's luster. We went to a Broadway show this past week-end. That was very special. As a matter of fact, it was my daughter's first Broadway show, that's how rarely we do it. And it felt like a real splurge.
Make it special, and make it rare. It will sparkle a lot more.
comforting rituals
Ritual is something that's "always done in a particular situation and in the same way each time," according to Merriam-Webster's online dictionary. Rituals that come to mind are daily rituals (getting up, taking a shower, going to bed), religious rituals (mass, prayer), and rituals connected to specific occasions (holiday celebrations, funerals, last day of school). My (almost) daily ritual is to shut the computer after a day's work, go down to the kitchen, and begin cooking dinner while sipping a glass of wine. Brushing my teeth as soon as I get out of bed is a ritual, too, because I do it every day, in the same way, with the same movements.
But the rituals I really want to talk about on the cusp of this Passover/Easter week-end are the special ones for special occasions. Why do we create and need ritual? Ritual is reassuring, and we need certain routines in life. It is reassuring to know how, when and in what fashion to celebrate an occasion, instead of inventing it anew each time. Annual holiday rituals tie us to nature's cycles as well as to our ethnic culture and roots. Like the seasons that always come back every year in the same sequence, like the moon that waxes and wanes always in the same predictable way, rituals are grounding specifically because they don't change. There is reassurance in knowing what to expect because the rest of life is so full of change, adjustment, fluctuation and surprises.
It is especially comforting for children to learn and have rituals because it creates rhythm and it helps them to find their place in the world, in nature, in their culture, in their family. My Easter menu doesn't change much from year to year. It's always a leg of lamb, always asparagus and some other green springtime vegetables. Like a ritual I buy a white hyacinth every year a few weeks before Easter, and we all associate its smell, which permeates the entire house, with Easter and the beginning of spring. Each year about three weeks before Easter we bring up the Easter storage box from the basement to pull out the painted eggs and decorate pussy willow or other bare branches, which will start to sprout tender leaves by Easter. Same thing each year. Here's to a new spring.
celebrating the beauty of food
In case you hadn't guessed it yet, I love food. Food is so important in my life that I also decorate the house with it. Not all over, of course (no apple basket in the bedroom or kiwi display in the bathroom). I mean in the living/dining/kitchen area, where we are inspired to eat it or cook with it (and won't forget about it).
When I return with lots and lots and lots of produce from our once-a-month food coop delivery, or from a trip to Trader Joe's to get my organic in-between-deliveries fruit, I pile it up on bowls and platters and display it on countertops and tables. I play with the colors of the produce and match, complement or juxtapose it with the colors of the vessels. The yellow leopard bowl goes well with the yellow of the bananas and the muted green avocados; I like the linear cardboard container the brownish-reddish kumato tomatoes lie in like peas in a pod just the way it is; and I picked the silver bowl this week for apples and kiwis next to the silver candle holders. 
Especially now, towards the end of winter, when we are beginning to crave color, but are still a month away from the spring bulb flowers, produce colors look gorgeous. Don't hide it in the fridge, play with it, display it, celebrate and enjoy it.
tired of snow?
It's cabin fever time. Lots of snow, lots of gray days, lots of indoors, lots of sitting. The winter doldrums. Sick and tired of it all?
What can you do? Many things. The best is always to embrace fully what you're in and not fight it, not resist it, go with the flow as they say. If you love the outdoors and have easy access to it you are way ahead of the city people. Go for a walk - enjoy the snow, the sunshine, the slush (it squishes so beautifully under the soles), or a gray day - go skiing, snowshoeing, walking your dog or yourself - but go out and get some fresh air and a bit of vitamin D aka sunshine. And do eat your egg yolks, because it's the best vitamin D you can get besides actual sunshine.
If you are not an outdoorsy person, or have few opportunities to get out during this sometimes dreary time of year, you need to tackle the doldrums a different way. Friends! Community! Conviviality! No need to remain stuck inside your own four walls and mope. Winter is the perfect time to connect with people. Party time! Make it a point, make an effort, have people over, and you will get invited back. It's the time for hearty stews, bone broth, casseroles (my favorite is French cassoulet), soup with homemade bread, good friends, and of course candles and fires. Get together to make a meal, share a glass of wine, a potluck, some singing or a poetry reading, make music, do a project, play ping pong - do something to lift your spirits. Or volunteer in your town. A lot of summer parties and fundraisers get planned now. Or dream up your vegetable garden, it's almost time to start your seedlings indoors. And curling up with a good book in front of the fire with a cup of tea or a glass of wine is not something you'll do come May.
It takes some effort, but do enjoy the beauty of this season while it lasts.
a seasonal winter display
What a visually pleasing tradition to have a seasonal display at home, not only when there is a particular holiday, but simply to remind us of the current season. The display might include some plant or nature element, such as a bare branch in the wintertime, maybe some pretty rocks, perhaps a candle. Really anything that reflects the current time of year, the mood and what it means to you.
A fireplace mantel lends itself beautifully to this kind of display because it is usually so centrally placed in the home. But a side table in the entrance, a pedestal in the dining room or a window alcove in the living room are all just as suitable.
When my children were small they went to a Waldorf nursery school, where it is customary to have such a display on a table in the playroom.
The Japanese traditionally have a tokonoma in their home, a niche with a seasonal scroll, a seasonal flower display, perhaps a candle and some incense, all thoughtfully selected.
Consider taking a look around your garden and your house, and think about a few items to place in a location you pass a few times a day. It might become a spot where you stop just for a second to pause and interrupt the flow of things.
enjoying Gemütlichkeit
Wintertime, when it is dark and damp and cold and windy outside, is the quintessential time of year when Germans yearn for Gemütlichkeit and Danish people for hygge. There is no direct translation for either word, but it means cozy-warm-fuzzy-comforting. The term describes a combination of appearance and ambiance, and is culturally linked to the need for physical and psychological protection from the raw fall and winter weather of those countries.
A room, home or restaurant is gemütlich when it is not too big, warm, the lights are dim (maybe candles are lit), the ceiling is not too high, the colors are in the warm spectrum, the sound level is muted or soft music is playing, maybe a fire is lit in the fireplace, you can sink deeply into the soft furniture, the smell of cookies baking in the oven or a thick winter stew simmering on the stovetop might waft through the air, and you feel safe and coddled and know that everything is all right.
You can feel gemütlich by yourself, with a loved one or with a few close friends, but not in a crowd. It feels gemütlich when you sit in front of your fireplace in the late afternoon or evening in comfortable clothes on a soft couch with a cup of tea and a good book and without a care in the world, moreso if the weather is really miserable outside. You cannot feel gemütlich when the sun shines brightly, when the weather is balmy and the windows are open, when you sit in an upright hard chair, when you wear formal clothes, when the place is expansive with high ceilings, or when you are upset and preoccupied.
Now is the time to be gemütlich, because it's over with the Gemütlichkeit as soon as the weather warms and spring fever hits.
making magic
Here a thought that was inspired - yet again - from my beautiful yoga teacher who always has so many words of wisdom. She was referring to Corinthian 4:18: "So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal."
She suggested keeping in mind during this Christmas season that it is the unseen, the invisible that makes magic. What is in our hearts makes magic, the love we share is magic, the time we spend with friends and family is magic, the sparkles in the children's eyes when they open their presents is magic, the joy of being part of a greater whole is magic, our family traditions and rituals during this time are magic, our ethnic connections and family ties make magic, the thought behind a truly thoughtful present makes magic, neighborly appreciation makes magic, kindness and compassion make magic............…..
May you experience lots of magic and may you make lots of magic during this holiday season.